House of Secrets Read Online Free Page A
girl?”
“Her name is Stella.”
“And who is Stella?”
“She’s a girl at school. Traci kind of set it up.”
Stella, Teresa thought. That was an unusual name. Her nephew had shown little interest in dating. He had moppy brown hair and innocent eyes that might have charmed a half dozen girls, if he’d only had the confidence to make the moves. He was shy and academically slow. Not retarded, but his IQ was borderline. She’d hired a tutor to help him, but she could only guess what he was up against in the high school’s social scene. Joel Michael Good, Jr. was four weeks from graduation.
Unlike most of the students at Jackson, he did not have a stack of college acceptance letters to consider. But in her house, Teresa Boron figured, he had a shot at making a life for himself. She was the coowner and bookkeeper of her husband’s machine shop. They made guide rollers for mills in the rust belt. She handled the payroll and the accounts payable and receivable between raising four kids of her own under the age of 10. She never thought twice about taking in Joey. As a child, he called her “Aunt Tee Tee.” Sometimes he still did. He’d lived with her sister Velva, then her parents. Joey’s younger brother Danny was still living with his grandparents in south Canton. When Joey said he wanted to move in with her, Teresa figured she was fulfilling an old promise. Her sister Linda had called her to her sickbed six years ago, blind, her organs failing. “I have to make sure my kids are going to be okay,” Linda said. That day Teresa promised, “I’ll always be there for them.” She wished her sister could be there now. A first date, to the senior prom no less. How proud his mother would be. “You wear a tux to a prom,” Teresa said. Joey did not have a tux, or reservations at a restaurant. He’d given no thought to flowers, color coordination, or any of the other details most students spent weeks planning. Teresa glanced at her watch and reached for the Yellow Pages.
“My God, J-oey,” she asked. “What color is Stella’s dress?”
“I don’t know,” Joey said. He didn’t have Stella’s phone number, either, and only vague directions to her house. Eight hours later, they sped down Wales Avenue toward Massilon, Joey in the backseat, Teresa’s friend in the front, along for the ride. They would find this Stella’s house, pick her up and take the young prom couple to a restaurant called the Leprechaun. They would let the two seniors dine by themselves on the other side of the restaurant, while Teresa and her friend sipped a couple of drinks. Then, they’d drop them off at the Mckinley Room in the Canton Civic Center, site of the 1989 prom. They were calling the dance “When I’m With You,” inspired by a song by the band called Sheriff. Teresa scanned the houses, her eyes straining from behind the wheel of her Chevy van. It was twilight, the sky a dark off-white from a murky overcast. Dusk had turned the lawns and homes and leafless trees into ill-defined dark shapes. They were looking for a pond. “She said it was the house on Wales next to the pond,” Joey kept saying. So far, they’d gotten lucky, Teresa figured. Her nephew was dressed in a brilliant white tuxedo, complimented by white shoes and a powder blue tie and cummerbund. They’d found a rental shop that did one-day alterations. There was a table waiting for the couple at the Leprechaun. At the flower shop, Joey had picked out a rose corsage.
“You can never go wrong with a red rose,” Teresa said. When they found the pond, Joey went up to the house on the north side of the water, but returned after a few moments. When he got back into the backseat, Teresa spun around, wondering. “Wrong house,” Joey said. He pointed south. “The people said there’s a girl named Stella who lives over there.” Teresa wheeled the van back around on Wales, then up Caroline, finding the driveway. The house was
“Her name is Stella.”
“And who is Stella?”
“She’s a girl at school. Traci kind of set it up.”
Stella, Teresa thought. That was an unusual name. Her nephew had shown little interest in dating. He had moppy brown hair and innocent eyes that might have charmed a half dozen girls, if he’d only had the confidence to make the moves. He was shy and academically slow. Not retarded, but his IQ was borderline. She’d hired a tutor to help him, but she could only guess what he was up against in the high school’s social scene. Joel Michael Good, Jr. was four weeks from graduation.
Unlike most of the students at Jackson, he did not have a stack of college acceptance letters to consider. But in her house, Teresa Boron figured, he had a shot at making a life for himself. She was the coowner and bookkeeper of her husband’s machine shop. They made guide rollers for mills in the rust belt. She handled the payroll and the accounts payable and receivable between raising four kids of her own under the age of 10. She never thought twice about taking in Joey. As a child, he called her “Aunt Tee Tee.” Sometimes he still did. He’d lived with her sister Velva, then her parents. Joey’s younger brother Danny was still living with his grandparents in south Canton. When Joey said he wanted to move in with her, Teresa figured she was fulfilling an old promise. Her sister Linda had called her to her sickbed six years ago, blind, her organs failing. “I have to make sure my kids are going to be okay,” Linda said. That day Teresa promised, “I’ll always be there for them.” She wished her sister could be there now. A first date, to the senior prom no less. How proud his mother would be. “You wear a tux to a prom,” Teresa said. Joey did not have a tux, or reservations at a restaurant. He’d given no thought to flowers, color coordination, or any of the other details most students spent weeks planning. Teresa glanced at her watch and reached for the Yellow Pages.
“My God, J-oey,” she asked. “What color is Stella’s dress?”
“I don’t know,” Joey said. He didn’t have Stella’s phone number, either, and only vague directions to her house. Eight hours later, they sped down Wales Avenue toward Massilon, Joey in the backseat, Teresa’s friend in the front, along for the ride. They would find this Stella’s house, pick her up and take the young prom couple to a restaurant called the Leprechaun. They would let the two seniors dine by themselves on the other side of the restaurant, while Teresa and her friend sipped a couple of drinks. Then, they’d drop them off at the Mckinley Room in the Canton Civic Center, site of the 1989 prom. They were calling the dance “When I’m With You,” inspired by a song by the band called Sheriff. Teresa scanned the houses, her eyes straining from behind the wheel of her Chevy van. It was twilight, the sky a dark off-white from a murky overcast. Dusk had turned the lawns and homes and leafless trees into ill-defined dark shapes. They were looking for a pond. “She said it was the house on Wales next to the pond,” Joey kept saying. So far, they’d gotten lucky, Teresa figured. Her nephew was dressed in a brilliant white tuxedo, complimented by white shoes and a powder blue tie and cummerbund. They’d found a rental shop that did one-day alterations. There was a table waiting for the couple at the Leprechaun. At the flower shop, Joey had picked out a rose corsage.
“You can never go wrong with a red rose,” Teresa said. When they found the pond, Joey went up to the house on the north side of the water, but returned after a few moments. When he got back into the backseat, Teresa spun around, wondering. “Wrong house,” Joey said. He pointed south. “The people said there’s a girl named Stella who lives over there.” Teresa wheeled the van back around on Wales, then up Caroline, finding the driveway. The house was
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